Chapter 4:
InTelekinetic
After passing five gullies, he slowed down and began looking for Raju’s house. He noticed an aunty sitting at a small matka shop on the corner, surrounded by pots stacked neatly in rows.
“What do you want, beta? There are so many types of matkas here. Perfect for the upcoming summer!” she said, proudly gesturing to the collection.
“No, I just wanted to ask about Raju. Do you know where he lives?” Siddharth asked politely.
“Ohh! You’re Raju’s friend? He’s lives there,” she said, pointing toward the house just to the left of the shop.
“Alright, thanks aunty!”
Siddharth walked up to the house and knocked using the iron door knocker — one of those traditional ones with a hanging ring that clangs against the door.
A lady opened the door. “Ohh, yeah?” she asked, a little surprised.
“Does Raju live here? I’m one of his friends,” Siddharth replied politely.
“Oh! Come in, sit sit, he’s upstairs sleeping in his room.” She gestured warmly.
“No no, I just needed something from him.” But she insisted, and he couldn’t bring himself to say no.
---
He sat on the wooden sofa having a cushion on it. This house is so small… where’s the storeroom that fatty told me about? he thought, glancing around.
Then came a sleepy voice.
“Yeah… you wanted something?” A boy in a banyaan and kachha appeared, rubbing his eyes.
“Do you recognize me?” Siddharth asked, arms crossed, one leg folded over the other sitting in front of the table.
The boy squinted at him. “What? What are you doing here…? You know it’s 16 o'clock in the evening, right? What do you want?”
“Nothing much. Just give me that ink box Sam told you to hide in the storeroom 2 years ago.”
“How-how do you know about that? Did Sam tell you?” He looked surprised, then added, “I’ll give it… but why do you even need it?”
Wait, that was fast, “Hmm… none of your business. I just want to do an experiment. You know, I’m a curious person.”
“How would I know? Do you even talk in class?” he shot back. “Yesterday was the first time I saw you say anything — and that too, kinda rude,” he added, pointing a finger.
Before Siddharth could respond, Raju’s mother returned, holding two cups of tea.
Siddharth saw her coming and panicked inside.
What? How am I supposed to refuse now? It'll go to waste if I say no. Only if Mom were here… she'd know what to do in a situation like this.
He sighed inwardly. Fine. I’ll drink it. Sorry, Mom.
“Drink, beta?” She puts them down on table.
“Uh… yeah...” Picking up the cup he took a sip. Then another. Wow, this is really good. I rarely drink tea… but this one’s special.
Picks up the cup and finishes instantly. “Come with me,” Raju said.
Finishing the tea, Siddharth followed.
“Where’s the storeroom?”
Sliding on his slippers and walking ahead, “Just over there. It’s in my chachu’s house. I’ll ask my brother to open it for you. By the way, you know I’m the best cricket player in this colony, right?”
“Yeah, Sam told me...” Siddharth replied.
Silence.
Is that it?
Though, I’m in relief, he didn’t inquire much and agreed on giving it to me.
Raju broke the silence again. “If you can talk like this, why do you stay silent in class? Why don’t you have friends?”
Siddharth glanced ahead. “Didn’t feel like it was necessary. That’s all. Anyway, how long till we reach your chachu’s house?”
“Ten minutes.”
Ten minutes?! Damn it! Feels like the one who created this world is deliberately messing with me — throwing challenge after challenge. Why couldn’t I just get in the academy directly? Ugh. This is so frustrating.
Ten minutes later, while Siddharth stood outside, Raju asked his brother to unlock the storeroom. He handed Siddharth the ink box after getting out.
“Here. Take it. I’m going to play cricket now — ahead in the field. You can go back. And even if you ever wanted to play, you can’t. Our team is really good, and you don’t know anything.”
What arrogance… I don’t even want to play. I don’t have time for this. Though this went out pretty well, Sam was scared for nothing.
“Bye,” Siddharth muttered, turning around and tracing his path back the way he came.
---
Back at Sam’s house, both seated in the room, Siddharth exhaled with a sense of relief.
“Finally, all the ingredients are ready!” he said.
Sam nodded. “Alright then. I’ll start drafting the consent form first. As you asked, I’ll make sure it’s completed before 11th of Bloomcrest as you asked.” [Bloomcrest is a month in this story]
“Good,” Siddharth replied. “I trust you now—just make sure you do it properly. Meanwhile, I’ll take care of the other preparations.”
With that, Siddharth stood up.
What should I do next...? he wondered. I’ll go over the plan again—just to make sure I’m not overlooking anything crucial.
Deep in thought, he left Sam’s house, ready to recheck the path he’d set in motion.
4.1
The next day, sitting quietly in class, Siddharth had slipped back into his usual demeanor—silent, introverted, and lost in thought.
Everything is going according to plan.
The plan was simple on the surface, but layered beneath. Create a consent form stating that the school was organizing a one-day picnic under Miss Dhwani’s supervision. Hand it to his parents and get their signatures—making them believe he was just going out for a harmless school event.
At the same time, he’d give a different form to Miss Dhwani—the academy admission test form—this one forged with his parents’ signatures, making her believe they had approved it.
He wouldn’t actually take the test to pass—just attend it once, gather all the necessary intel, and then resign. A tactical move. Neither Miss Dhwani nor his parents would have any reason to question him. After all, every adult who knew Siddharth trusted him more than any other child. From childhood to now, his behaviour had been flawlessly obedient, never rebellious, never suspicious.
They believe I never lie… And even if I ever did, the lies were so insignificant, they dissolved without notice.
But now—this is the biggest lie I’ve ever told.
He glanced out the window, the corners of his mouth twitching into a subtle smile.
Will they ask, “Did you really go on a picnic with Miss Dhwani and your classmates?” Or, “Did your parents actually sign off on the admission form?” No… they won’t. That’s the beauty of trust. It blinds even the sharpest minds.
Heh… I’ve already won.
There was nothing left to do now except for waiting. Once Sam handed him the consent form, he would submit it just on the day of final deadline—too little time for anyone to second-guess or investigate.
Guess everything’s sorted out now... Finally, I can rest.
He let out a quiet sigh, sinking a little deeper into his chair.
---
Meanwhile, in the opposite corner of the classroom, Varsha leaned over toward Sam with a playful smile.
“Hey Sam! You coming to hang out with us tomorrow?”
“Uh…” Sam hesitated, Siddharth’s words echoing in his mind. “Actually, I’m busy until the 11th of Bloomcrest. I’ll join you guys after that, okay?”
Varsha raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? So, see you on the 11th then… Sam.”
Sam blinked, noticing the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Why are you grinning like that?”
“Nothing special,” she said with a teasing tone, already turning away. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“…Okay?” Sam muttered, watching her walk off. He stared for a moment, puzzled, then shook his head. Weird girl…
But as the words faded, a thought lingered in Varsha's mind. So, you thought I wouldn’t notice?
Siddharth… you really do underestimate others. You think you’re the only one who can make people conscious of your presence?
A quiet, knowing grin spread across her face as she sat back at her desk. I’ll make you aware of my presence soon enough.
4.2
As the days passed, Siddharth remained unusually calm.
Too calm for someone orchestrating something this delicate. It was almost as if he knew everything would fall into place, like chess pieces guided by invisible hands. No one suspected a thing—not because he was perfect at hiding it, but because nothing, absolutely nothing, seemed out of place. That’s what made it all work.
Bloomcrest 10th arrived—the deadline for Sam to prepare the forged consent form.
Just five days remained before Siddharth had to submit the form to Miss Dhwani.
He made his way to Sam’s house—not out of doubt, but to confirm the final piece of the puzzle. As he entered, he greeted Sam’s parents with his usual composed smile.
“Sam’s upstairs,” his father said, “been glued to his desk for days now, working on something with full concentration.”
Siddharth nodded and made his way up the wooden staircase. The air on the first floor smelled faintly of ink and old furniture. He pushed open the door.
Raising his right hand, left one in his pocket, “Yo, fatty. How’s the work going?” Siddharth asked casually.
Sam didn’t look up. “So far, so good! Never thought I’d pour this much effort into a skill I always thought was useless… but now? I’m on fire! Just give me a few more minutes—almost done.”
Siddharth sat down without another word, calm as ever, eyes scanning the room.
A few minutes later, Sam stood up suddenly, hands trembling slightly, eyes moist. “I did it,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. “I actually did it.”
Siddharth gave a subtle nod, like he’d expected no less. “Did anyone get suspicious of you over the past few days?”
Sam tilted his head. “Huh? Don’t think so… I mean, I told people I was working on my writing skills. They took it at face value.”
Siddharth leaned forward slightly. “No one noticed how hard you were working? Not even raised an eyebrow?”
“Nah. Everyone just thought it was a random hobby burst or something. Nothing seemed off. Why, do you think someone’s on to us?”
Siddharth leaned back, staring blankly at the wall. “No… not really. I acted as usual too. No strange reactions from anyone. Guess we’re safe.”
“Exactly! You’re just overthinking it. Relax—we did good,” Sam said, patting Siddharth’s shoulder with a grin.
Siddharth gave a half-smile, pulling out 5 coins of 20-Vs from his pocket. “Well then… here. A hundred-Vs—for your dedication.”
Sam blinked. “Oh, hey, this wasn’t necessary… but if you insist.” He chuckled, rubbing his hands together before pocketing it.
Siddharth smiled politely, but inside?
Fool.
What more can I expect from a shopkeeper’s son? he thought coldly.
He picked up the forged documents. The details were precise, the signature flawless. It was perfect.
Folding the papers carefully, Siddharth stood up. “I’ll handle it from here.”
And with that, he walked out of the house.
Not a single trace of anxiety in his steps—just quiet confidence…
-----
Author's note:
Also, if you noticed, there’s a Death Note reference too in Part 4.1. The way Siddharth was thinking just clicked with me, so I added the line “I’ve already won.” Hopefully, it resonates with you too.
If you caught both, let me know—did they fit, or did they feel out of place?
Please log in to leave a comment.